


Superstitious

by kingfully



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingfully/pseuds/kingfully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrex has more going on in that big ass head of his than Shepard thought. It's too endearing for her not to take advantage of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superstitious

**Author's Note:**

> One year later and I'm still gay as heck over ShepWrex. This one's for Darmy (and myself) (mostly myself) (fuck you Tiffany) (Thank you Tiffany for inspiring me to write this) (but also fuck you).

Shepard rarely had time to mourn the men who served and died around her. Instead of every loss becoming another blow to her heart, she made them all another reason to fight. To stop Saren. To protect everyone she could. 

And despite everyone's encouragement, no one truly reeled her out of the blues quite like Wrex could. Fighting by him every day was an honor, the way he didn't care how grand the challenge, how likely the negative outcome. It was as if you could shoot him into space half dead and he'd still find a way to come back, even if it took a couple years. 

But most importantly, he was humorous in his foreign nature. 

In the earlier days of their relationship, he seemed akin to that of a large grumbling dinosaur dressed in armor with little thought or care for those around him. Yet the more Shepard pestered him, fearless of the ever so lethal grunts and glares, the more she learned he was similar to a damn big house cat that purred somewhat differently and did silly things when no one was watching. 

For example,

Shepard's armor was often found polished and cleaned before the next mission, at the claims that no one else had touched it.

And the bucket of too-much-to-be-human spit found next to the Mako, empty before entering the vehicle and nearly full again by the time the Commander had climbed out. 

Not to mention the countless unique trinkets laid out in seemingly random areas of the ship, and if moved, would be easily replaced. 

Shepard hadn't thought much about why Wrex did these things; she just knew he would blow off her accusations differently, he was quick to get out of the Mako before anyone else, and he stared long enough at Liara when attempting to study the trinkets that she too left them be. 

So, upon finding him attempting to glue mirror shards back together made her realize he was oddly taking the "seven years of bad luck" comment to heart after he shattered it while drunk the day before.

Wrex was superstitious. 

"Uh, Wrex?" 

Albeit his prior denial and shrugs to the unique rituals, the Krogan didn't flinch nor hide what he was doing when Shepard spoke. Then again, he never was taken off guard, no matter how often it seemed he was in his own little (for a Krogan) bubble. Nevertheless, he acknowledged her presence with a particularly audible exhale.

"Shepard." 

Though it had never been a habit for him to greet her with so much as a glance, she could tell he was too engrossed with his work to bother now of all times, having even stolen some of the lab equipment to aid him. For someone with such simple and aggressive approaches to everything, she really never expected such focus and patience from the male. Purely out of pity, her lips parted to inform him the seven years was only a saying back on Earth, but then again... that would be no fun. So she left him to his work, returning to him a few days later after a trip to the Citadel.

"Wrex!"

"Shepard."

"I gotta show you something." The Commander plopped down in front of him, a wooden board in her hands and a triangular piece atop it. "It's a ouija board," she said with something mischievous in the grin she gave him, but Wrex paid it no mind. He wasn't even outwardly interested as always, yet Shepard knew he internally enjoyed almost anything he brought to her. Almost. 

"And?" 

"It's a board that lets us talk to dead spirits, you just touch the indicator and-" 

A crash. A tumble. A throw and a gun shot. An inordinate speed from a Krogan. A guaranteed headache for a human.

"Shepard!" A near roar rose from Wrex, causing the woman to blink in surprise as she continued to rub her head. She barely had a second to even ask what went wrong. The Krogan jerked her by the arm to her feet, his menacing features no longer providing a stable front. "You don't mess with those in The Void, you damn fool." 

Shepard wanted to take him seriously; she did, she really, really did. She also really, really didn't remember the last time she had laughed this hard.

"You were scared!"

A grumble. "Nothing scares a Krogan."

"Oh, PLEASE. It wasn't going to bite! It's a joke board."

"I don't believe you."

"Wrex-"

"Shepard."

She sighed, folding the arms she had gestured with in her excitement. The smile hadn't faded from her expression however, even as she was stared down at in anger. She crossed the room to grab the board as an ever so nosy Ashley entered the scene. "Commander! Is everything alright in here?"

Glancing between Ash and Wrex, she nodded and waved off the soldier. "Just playing around. Meet me at lockers in a few, I have a question for you." Her professional poise fell the second the Gunnery Chief turned away. Wrex had turned away from her, studying the mirror as if contemplating his attempt to fix it was pointless. Of course, Shepard still had no clue what exactly went on in his mind.

"You owe me some credits but... thank you for protecting me. As always." Slowly she joined his side at the mirror, staring at his reflection. "It was just a saying, by the way. No bad luck for seven years." Maybe she had read his thoughts right for the reassurance finally prompted the Krogan to look at her, absent of any hostile air. 

And with enough courage, Shepard stood on her tiptoes to press her lips as a soft peck to Wrex' rough cheek, taking him off guard for once as he grunted a little differently for once and immediately turned away from her. He recognized the gesture, she knew.

"You still standing there?" 

" _Just admiring the view._ " Shepard thought, taking note of his gently wriggling tail before leaving to ask Ashley if she ever messed with a ouija board back in the day.

-

Garrus held off the last couple of Geth of that wave as Shepard reloaded her gun from a distance, the Krogan at her side. Despite the almost hellish landscape of the Citadel crumbling before them and the seriousness of their mission, she still couldn't resist a smile looking to Wrex, fully believing it'd all be fine. Hell, he didn't even look slightly tired.

"Shepard." This one was different, she could hear it in his tone. Not a "Hi Shepard," but a, "I need to tell you something Shepard." It was hard to believe he used to seem so monotone. 

"Wrex?" Her head angled slightly, watching Wrex pull a dagger from his side.

"I used this to kill my father when we last fought. It was centuries ago, older than you, but I want you to have it. It has protected me all this time. Kill Saren with it." A pause. "Seven hundred years of good luck. Give or take." 

What a guy.

She gratefully took the weapon. "Let's give 'em hell."


End file.
